Sunday, December 31, 2017

I was Christmas shopping a few years ago when I came across
one of those, you might say, “inspirational” signs in a department store: “Our
family puts the FUN in dysFUNctional.”I was rather tempted to buy it…but walked away.When I was back in the same store a
week later, they were all sold out.I guess at least a few families have the same experience!

At Christmas, many of us spend a lot of time with family—with
all the ups and downs that can entail.
And how very appropriate that is during this season when we focus so
much of our attention on the manger, and there see the Holy Family of Jesus,
Mary, and Joseph. Over the
holidays, families eat together and exchange gifts, all gathered together in
one place. But does sharing a
meal, giving presents, or being under the same roof somehow make a group of distinct
individuals into a family? Of
course not.

The fact of the matter is that our Christmas festivities get
their power and meaning from what happens the other 364 days of the year: from
being there for one another; from looking after one another; from asking about
each other; from supporting each other in difficult times; from celebrating
with each other in happy times.It’s
only because we already care about one another, because we love one another,
that it makes any sense at all for us to come together in the first place.

And the very same thing is true of our Church family.

The Church is a family.We speak of our Holy Mother,
the Church.We refer to each other
as brothers and sisters in Christ.You
even call me Father Joe.That familiar language is intended to
be so much more than a homey metaphor.But it’s not enough that we happen to spend an hour in God’s house at
the same time every Sunday to make those words a reality.

Although showing up is pretty essential, to be Catholic
requires much more of us than regularly getting to Mass.In fact, it’s what we do between Masses that helps to form us and
keep us together as a true family of faith.We have to get to know one another.We have to care for each other—to
be there for each other in good times and bad.We have to love each other.

And this is where the dysfunction comes into our Church
family.Experience shows time and
again that when Protestants become Catholic, it’s usually either because of
doctrine or the sacraments: the Church’s teachings are so consistent, so
comprehensive, so compelling, that they want to be a part of it, or they
recognize the real presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist and can’t stay
away.But we also see that when Catholics leave and become
Protestant, it’s generally because they’re looking for a stronger experience of
fellowship: their parish didn’t have an honest sense of community; they didn’t
feel at home there; it didn’t feel like a real family.

Sure, we’re here right now to keep an obligation—but even
more, we’re here to strengthen relationships.That’s why taking a moment to greet one another before Mass
begins—as we did this morning—is not a silly little exercise.It’s also why racing out of Mass or
heading home early is like leaving the dinner table without first being excused.But there’s no magic program, no foolproof
plan that can fix this dysfunction.No one else can do it for you.As in any family, being a family
of faith is something we have to work at—each and every one of us.Neglect it, take it for granted, and
before long, it won’t be there for you any more.

I’ve been doing some reading recently on the life and
ministry of priests.A number of
things I’ve read have pointed out that priests need to have an experience of
community amongst themselves.We
were never meant to be “lone rangers.”That’s important for our personal wellbeing—to have companions we know
we can depend on.But it’s also
important for our pastoral ministry: if priests are going to be able to lead
and form a parish community, then
they need to have some first hand experience of community from the inside.Community begets community; family
begets family.

If that’s the case for the priest’s place in the parish, I’d
say it’s much the same for the parish’s place in the wider world.In our day and age, the family is
threatened. Many would say that’s because we’ve gone and tampered with the very
definition of what it means to be a family.While that may be true, families have always come in a wide
array of shapes and sizes.(With
apologies to my own parents and siblings: Have any of you ever met a “normal”
family?)For me, any concern about
families these days being non-traditional is eclipsed by the fear that families
may actually soon disappear altogether.

We don’t have any time to be a family any more.Parents today are super busy with work
(sometimes earning a salary just to pay someone else to look after their
children).And kids are super busy
with the demands of school, sports, and countless other activities.For many modern families, the only time
they have together is in the car racing from one thing to the next.Families are busy with many good
things—it’s just they’re busy with too
many good things.

And we’ve also allowed ourselves to accept some pretty cheap
substitutes for family life.Hours
and hours every day are spent tending to our “social networks” and “online
communities.”Such connections can
seem so much safer, so much more efficient, so much more convenient, than
keeping in touch with our loved ones the old-fashioned way.But you know these aren’t real relationships—only
imitations—when you see family members, young and old, right next to each
other…but never saying a word, their attention entirely given to tiny glowing
screens.Technology’s a helpful
tool, but it’s also a huge temptation.

That’s why I worry that the family is an endangered species.And that’s why the world we live in
desperately needs parishes that are real
families—that are authentic communities which allow people to experience
human connection the way God intended it.But “we can’t give what we ain’t got.”And so there’s a great urgency for us as a Church
family—specifically, as a parish family here at St. André’s—to get it right when
it comes to loving one another as true brothers and sisters in Christ.

The sacred scriptures this Sunday remind us that the Lord
promised Abraham many descendants.But the promise was for more than a long bloodline; it was for an
immense family of faith.When God
tells Abraham to go out and count the stars (for that is how numerous his
children will be), we tend to overlook a rather crucial detail of the story: it
was the middle of the day!It’s
not that God was asking Abraham to do something impossible—stargazing at noon;
it’s that God was asking Abraham to trust him completely.

And Abraham would be called to do that very thing again and
again: when leaving his homeland; when awaiting a son with Sarah in their old
age; when put to the test as he was asked to offer that same son in sacrifice.That complete faith in God is what
links all the spiritual children of Abraham.It was that faith which united and guided Jesus, Mary, and
Joseph as they journeyed to Bethlehem, then to Jerusalem, then to Egypt, and
then to Nazareth.It’s that faith
which must bind us together here in Malone as one holy family.We, the Church, are the fulfillment of
God’s promise to Abraham.

As a parish family, we are called by God to give witness to genuine
human connection.But deep and
lasting human connection is only possible because we are really and truly
connected to the Lord.Since the
Word became flesh, since God became man, the Christmas mystery is at the heart
of what it means to be a family.As
he appears in every Nativity scene, it’s only when we keep Jesus at the center
that we can be who we were meant to be.

You don’t get to pick your family, of course.It’s a gift you receive—and it’s one
you can’t return or exchange.So
we might as well make the most of it!Yes, our family of faith will always be dysfunctional.And that’s because you and I are
members of it: we’re sinners among so many others.But that doesn’t mean we can’t find the fun in our
dysfunction.And it certainly doesn't
excuse us from answering the call to be holy.

Like the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, we now
present ourselves before the Lord here in this temple. We have come together again as God’s
family in God’s house. But let’s be
sure we’re thinking and speaking and acting—and, above all, that we’re loving one
another—as a true family of faith, not only on Sundays and at Christmas, but
every day and all throughout the year.

Monday, December 18, 2017

2017 marks 50 years since my Dad began farming on his own in a rented barn (which he later bought) on Route 22 in Beekmantown. Even after that barn burned down in mid-July, we wanted to mark that milestone with my father. And so, in October, we had a party--inviting family and friends to celebrate Dad's hard work and success. My sister, Cori, created a beautiful and rather poignant video for the occasion:

That evening also brought the happy announcement from my brother, Todd, that he still sees his future on the family farm and plans to rebuild. In anticipation of that big project, we asked God's blessing that night:

O
God,

the
author and giver of every gift,

who,
in your goodness, have made us in your image

and
gave us care over other living things,

commanding
us to till the earth and cultivate it,

creating
the animals and giving us food from them:

grant,
we pray, that this land,

which
has sustained this family for more than 50 years,

may
again bring forth your bounty.

Continue
to protect and sustain this farm and those work on it

with
the grace your blessing brings.

May
the work we plan to undertake in rebuilding here

progress
day-by-day to a successful completion

for
your glory and our own well-being.

Through
our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who
lives and regions with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one
God, for ever and ever.Amen.

May
God, the source of every good,

bless
X you and give success to your work,

so
that you may receive the joy of his gifts and
praise his name now and for ever.
Amen.

And then we got the good news that dad was being honored by the New York State Farm Bureau with its Distinguished Service to Agriculture Award. The whole family was there in Albany for the banquet on December 6.

If you want to hear some of the kind (and funny) things his colleagues had to say about him, you can get a taste of it here.

I think I’ve got a story this Sunday—a true story—that ought
to get you smiling even more widely than seeing your clergy up here dressed in
rose-colored vestments from head to toe…

Do any of you text?I’m one of the last 15 people on the planet who doesn’t own a cell phone
so I don’t text myself, but I’m surrounded by people who do.Texting has almost become its own
language—so much so that some educators worry about our children learning good
grammar or even good manners.For
example, BRB means, “be right back,” and G2G means, “got to go.”You get the idea.

Well I heard the story awhile back of a dad who was having
trouble communicating with his teenaged son.The two men would pass each other in the house, and dad
would ask, “How was school?”He
was lucky if he even got a grunt in reply.His son was always head down, texting on his phone.

Eventually dad thought, “If you can’t beat ’em, join
‘em.”He started texting with his
teenager…and he actually got a response.He’d have preferred that they actually talk to one another, but you’ve
got to start somewhere.They began
to text about all kinds of things.They began to text all the time.Occasionally they’d be sitting right next to each other watching the
same hockey game on TV, texting back and forth but not saying a word.

Now, dad had to learn the texting lingo.Some of it his son taught him, but a
lot of it he picked up on his own.His favorite to text was LOL.He never asked his son what it meant—from context, he just figured it
out.The way his son used it at
the end of so many messages, dad was absolutely certain LOL meant, “lots of
love.”What a beautiful expression!

After getting the hang of this texting thing, dad began to
send text messages to all kinds of people—family, friends, coworkers.And he sent LOL to everybody he
knew.He found out that his sister
was getting a divorce: “Sorry to hear the news, but I’m behind you
100%—LOL!”His own father was
seriously ill in the hospital: “Get well soon pop—LOL!”This sort of thing went on for six
months.

Finally, he was in the airport waiting for a plane and
missing his family (his job often took him out of town).Dad texted his son, “I hope you
understand how much I hate being away from you, but I have to do to it earn
enough money so we can live the way we want to live—LOL, your dad.”

Which is when he got the response, “DAD WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU
THINK LOL MEANS?”

“Lots of love.”

“No it doesn’t Dad.”

“Yes it does.”

“NO IT DOESN’T IT MEANS LAUGHING OUT LOUD!”

And right away dad knew that he had to go back and apologize
for 6 full months of LOLs…

Our second reading this Sunday comes from St. Paul’s first
letter to the Thessalonians.That’s a pretty significant part of the New Testament, since it’s
actually the oldest Christians writing we have—from about the year 50 or so,
which is only about 15 years after the life of Jesus.Folks like St. Paul likely wrote things before this, but it’s
the oldest text to survive.Which
means we really ought to pay attention to what it has to say.

And what does St. Paul tell us this Sunday?

Rejoice always.

Pray without ceasing.

In all circumstances, give thanks.

This message comes from very near the letter’s end and, although brief,
packs a real punch.You’ll notice
that Paul does not say, “Cheer up a bit—things aren’t that bad.Maybe you could pray just a little
more.And don’t forget to say
‘thank you’ every once in a while.”Instead it’s, “Rejoice always.
Pray without ceasing.In all circumstances give thanks.”

Even for St. Paul—who can be pretty intense—this is rather
over the top.But why be so
extreme?Because for Paul, the
coming of Jesus changed absolutely everything.Jesus has turned the whole world upside down for those who
believe in him.The usual ways of
thinking and acting just don’t do it anymore.This perspective usually escapes us Christians today, but
for St. Paul it was the heart of reality.Jesus had come, and nothing could ever be the same again.

And so he tells us to rejoice always.

But don’t you sometimes feel down?Get really bummed?Or just want to cry?Going
around rejoicing all the time would seem phony—or even insane.

“I just wrecked my car.”

“You should rejoice!”

“I lost my job.”

“Oh well—rejoice!”

That clearly can’t be what St. Paul is getting at—or he
begins to sound like a dad who texts LOL at all the wrong times.He isn’t saying that Christians should
always be giddy or giggling—always laughing out loud.But they should be convinced that, by his resurrection,
Jesus has won the most decisive victory.None of life’s highs and lows—not sickness, not sin, not even
death—nothing this world can throw at us can undo this victory.All these things have been
defeated!Even when we’re down and
out, we can trust in Christ’s ultimate triumph and that’s cause for true joy.Does that make life one big party?No.But it does give us a peace, it does give us a hope, that
nothing whatsoever can shake.

So rejoice always.And pray without ceasing.

Even monks and nuns—who are “professional pray-ers”—can’t pray
24/7.They still have to eat and
sleep and do their chores.It’s
not rational for Paul to expect us to spend all day and all night on our knees
in prayer!So what’s he saying?

Again—St. Paul believes that Jesus changed everything.When the Son of God became man, he made it possible for all
men and women to live in close union with his Father.Jesus has given us mere mortals access to the same intimate
relationship he has enjoyed with God from all eternity.Think about what an amazing privilege
that is!But this constant
communion with the Father which marks the lives of Christians—and which is as
essential to us as breathing—is, like breathing, something of which we’re often
not conscious at all.

We know that prayer isn’t about simply rattling off a bunch
of sacred words.Prayer at its
essence is about deep communion.Prayer is about working on and deepening our relationship with God.And prayer is becoming conscious of
what’s actually there all the time.Shouldn’t we want to remain continually aware of how close God has
brought us to himself?

So pray without
ceasing.And in all circumstances, give thanks.

What sort of things did you thank God for on
Thanksgiving?Family.Friends.The food on the table.Your home.Our country and
its freedoms.All the good things
you enjoy, right?Being grateful
makes sense when things are going well.But are you thankful for your setbacks?Your failures?Your losses?Are we really
supposed to be grateful when everything seems to be going wrong?

Remember, St. Paul wants us to realize that Jesus has
changed everything.When he became
man, the Son of God immersed himself completely in the human experience—the good
and the bad—becoming like us in all things but sin.And by uniting himself with us so completely, he has
transformed everything we can experience.Those things that appeared to be our downfall become openings for
grace.The worse things we endure,
our most terrible moments, become means for our redemption.Just look at the Cross!Humanity’s lowest point—God is dead and
we killed him!—becomes the very source of our salvation.I suspect that I’m not the only one
who’s gotten through some hardship, some heartache, some suffering, and only
later—maybe much later—has looked back and realized just how much grace God
gave me, just how much good God has mysterious worked through that very painful
experience.We Christians should
be able to see through the surface of things—even though the tough stuff—to
what’s really going on.

And so, in all
circumstances, give thanks.

The message of this Gaudete Sunday is one of rejoicing—not
necessarily the joy of laughing out loud, but the joy that comes with knowing
we are loved a whole lot: loved by our heavenly Father so much that he sent his
Only Begotten Son in our human flesh to live a fully human life, to die on the
Cross for our sins, and to rise from the grave that we might share in his
victory forever.

We all know the difference between a pillow and a rock,
don’t we?Well, it seems that some
of God’s holy ones through the ages have had a difficult time making the
distinction.

Take the patriarch Jacob, for example.He was on a journey and, as the sun was
setting, he found himself at a roadside shrine.Settling in for the night, he took a stone from the shrine
to tuck under his head and there he dreamed of a ladder—a stairway—leading all
the way to heaven.Use a rock for
a pillow and of course you’ll have some crazy dreams!

And then there are churches scattered across Italy that keep
rocks as sacred relics of St. Francis of Assisi.Having embraced a life of radical poverty, St. Francis
always slept on the floor or the bare earth.It seems that when he visited these places, these particular
stones served as his pillows.

But you and I will never make the same mix up!

How do you describe a pillow?Soft.Comfortable.Something you use to rest and be at ease.

And how do you describe a rock?Hard.Strong.Something sturdy on which you can depend.

And God: Is he more like a pillow or a rock?

Our first reading this Sunday, from the book of the prophet
Isaiah, would definitely lean toward the pillow.“Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God.”The Lord is pictured as a tender
shepherd cradling a fluffy lamb in his arms.

Our gospel reading, on the other hand, from the very
beginning of the gospel according to Mark, tends more to the rock.There we meet John the Baptist: the
messenger preparing the Lord’s way.Where does St. John live?In the desert.And what
does he wear?Camel’s hair and
leather.And what does he
eat?Locusts and wild honey.If you live in a rocky wilderness,
wearing scratchy hides and eating grasshoppers, it’s safe to guess you’re a
pretty tough guy.And John
declares, “One mightier than I is coming after me!”His message is a rather hard one: Acknowledge your sins and repent of them.

There are times where we’re tempted to think of God as only
a pillow.We convince ourselves
that he’s really a big softy, and he’ll let us get away with just about
anything.And there are times when
we’re tempted to think of God as only a rock—adamant and unyielding in his
demands of us, ready to get even with sinners when the time is right.

Of course, neither of those perspectives is true.God is, in fact, much more a mix of
both.

Now, we can also fall into thinking that I must please God
“the Rock” before I get to enjoy God “the Pillow”—as if we have to somehow earn
his love, his kindness, his compassion.The fact of the matter is that the opposite is actually the case.

That’s what we learn from the second letter of St.
Peter.Jesus had promised his
disciples that he would come again…and Christians were beginning to wonder what
was taking him so long.Peter
assures them that what they’re experiencing isn’t a delay, but God’s incredible
patience.He doesn’t want to see
any of his children perish, and so in his love and mercy God is giving them
ample time to turn from their sins.But even clinging to this comforting truth, they must face the hard
fact: one day this sin-stained world will be wiped out to make way for new
heavens and a new earth.And so
they need to always conduct themselves with holiness and devotion, to be eager
to be found without spot or stain, becoming before God the sort of person that
they ought to be.

It’s not that, if we’re good, then God will love us.It’s because God loves us that we can’t
help but want to be good.You see,
it’s only when I genuinely believe that I am loved—that I have full confidence
that God loves me passionately, tenderly, unconditionally—that I can find the
courage to honestly reassess the direction of my life, and then take the
necessary steps—no matter how dramatic—to change my ways.That’s the ringing shout of John the
Baptist.That’s the healing cry of
Advent.

So maybe folks like Jacob and St. Francis were onto
something with their eccentric sleeping habits!

Let God be your pillow. Take your comfort in him. Be at ease in his presence. Allow him to restore and refresh you. But also make God your rock. Permit him to challenge you, to call
you to repentance, to be your steady strength. The Lord of all compassion is also the Lord of mighty power. Rest in him, and stand firm.

Sunday, December 3, 2017

The Advent wreath in St. Joseph’s Church here is huge: about
8 feet across and suspended on four long chains somewhere near 8 feet off the
ground.I understand that someone
before Mass was concerned that the first candle of the wreath was already
burning.I had asked our crew to
look into installing a trapeze so that I could swing right by to light it, and
I even pondered shooting a flaming arrow to do the job, but since there wasn’t
sufficient time to practice either of these very technical maneuvers, we took
the path of least resistance and simply used a ladder ahead of time.

Crazy, right?But no crazier than so much of what we heard in the news this past
week.In fact, it seems lately
that each week is a bit wilder than the last.

For my taste, the most disturbing thing in the news—and the
competition was stiff—was the scene from an international courtroom in the
Netherlands.Maybe you saw it,
too.A Croatian general, convicted
of heinous war crimes, had appealed his sentence.He had never once admitted his guilt—even in the face of
overwhelming evidence and many eyewitness accounts of the brutal rape, torture,
and ethnic cleansing that had occurred under his command.When the judges announced that the
general had lost his appeal, he defiantly pulled a small vial from his pocket
and—with people watching live around the world—drank a fatal dose of
cyanide.He died shortly
thereafter, having chosen to make a dramatic exit rather than face the facts:
refusing to accept hard reality, refusing to accept his responsibility.

Our first reading this Sunday—the very first reading of this
new season of Advent—is drawn from the final chapters of the long book of the
prophet Isaiah.Isaiah had the
challenging task of speaking to God’s people in times not unlike our own.The world around them seemed to be
going mad, to be falling apart.Israel was conquered, Jerusalem and its temple were destroyed, the
survivors had been led off into exile.How could this be?Why was
this happening?Isaiah’s task is to
get his fellow countrymen to own up to their guilt.They had really messed things up.They had grievously sinned.And so we hear them cry:

Why
do you let us wander, O Lord, from
your ways,and
harden our hearts so that we fear you not?

Behold,
you are angry, and we are sinful;all
of us have become like unclean people,all
our good deeds are like polluted rags;we
have all withered like leaves,and
our guilt carries us away like the wind.

It may have felt like God had abandoned them, but the truth
of the matter was that they had abandoned God.

Aren’t we faced with similarly troubling circumstances
today?As public, trusted
figures—politicians, journalists, and entertainers—are exposed for their
corruption, one after another, we’re discouraged and disheartened.Things are getting crazy, falling apart,
everywhere you look.But we must
not be surprised: in a culture that sells sex and violence as entertainment, in
a society where the lines are increasingly blurred between what’s true and
what’s false, between fact and fiction, can we really expect anything
different?Both collectively and
as individuals (there are no “innocent bystanders”), we reap what we sow.

Many—like the Croatian general—when faced with the darkness
around them and the darkness within—give in to despair.Suicide isn’t the only way to check
out—to skirt reality and responsibility.Some seek ways to numb the pain—whether it’s drugs, alcohol, social
media, pornography, sports, or one of countless other obsessions or addictions—so
prevalent these days.Some just
choose to ride the wave, to let go of their moral bearings: “If you can’t beat
’em, join ’em.”

But that’s not the message of Isaiah, and that’s not the
message of Advent.

After pointing out Israel’s crimes, and calling the people
to admit their guilt, he holds out for them a divine promise—something they can
look forward to: that God has a plan to restore, to renew, to redeem them in a
way they couldn’t even dream possible.Trying to go it on their own had brought on their current misery.But God himself will save his
people.God will provide them a
way out.

And so they find themselves—as we do—at a critical fork in
the road, between the path of despair and the path of hope.

Hope is one of the quintessential Christian virtues—along
with faith and love.Hope is the
God-given power to long for that for which we were truly made.God has deeply planted the desire for
happiness in every human heart, and—despite the encircling gloom—hope
confidently expects this deep desire to be fulfilled.Hope gives us the ability to recognize where real happiness
is found: not in the passing things of things world, but in the things that
endure.Hope acknowledges that
happiness comes with knowing, loving, and serving God, and that God has
prepared a place for us where we can live with him and be happy forever.Hope is trusting in all of God’s
promises, because he has always come through for us before.Hope keeps us moving forward, not
relying on our own strength—since we clearly can’t make it on our own—but
depending on God’s grace. The Lord
will always provide.

Hope is the confident cry of the Psalmist, as we echoed when
chanting our Entrance Antiphon today:

To
you, I lift up my soul, O my God.

In
you, I have trusted; let me not be put to shame.

Nor
let my enemies exult over me;

and
let none who hope in you be put to shame.

Jesus gives us a brief but forceful lesson in Christian hope
this Sunday when he repeats over and over in just a few verses of Scripture: Watch!Watch and pray!Be alert!Stay awake!Constantly watching and waiting
is how the Christian lives in hope.

Our watchfulness simultaneously looks in two
directions.Most obviously, we
look ahead to the future.As we’ve
heard again and again in recent weeks, the Son of Man will come again, but we
know not the day nor the hour.Whether it’s the moment of our own death or the end of all time and
history, hope keeps us always ready for the Lord’s return to take us home.But we must also keep a close and
careful watch on the present.We
must be alert to all the ways that Christ is present and active here and now:
speaking in his living word, touching our lives in the Holy Eucharist and other
sacraments, there to love us and be loved in the members of his Body, the
Church.We can wait in constant hope
because Jesus promised not only to return, but never to abandon us.He remains—just as promised through
Isaiah—Emmanuel, God always with us.

Secular preparations for Christmas (and they’ve been
underway since shortly after St. Patrick’s Day, I think) focus primarily on the
sentimental: we prepare the favorite recipes, sing the old songs, watch the
beloved movies, hang the traditional ornaments.It’s all meant to gives us a warm and fuzzy feeling—and who
doesn’t like that?But if we’re
honest, it’s all just a distraction—yet another means of escaping from a world
gone mad, a world falling apart.

But the season of Advent—the Church’s Advent—is a lot more
realistic, a lot more hard-hitting.Advent faces the tough stuff head on, requiring us to acknowledge
reality and to accept responsibility—not in order to drag us down, but that we
might allow God to raise us up.We
are not alone!Yes, there’s much
darkness around and within, but Light from light has come to shine in our
darkness.What only appears to be
defeat is actually the prelude to a glorious and ultimate victory.

During these busy days of Advent, and throughout your life
in this crazy, mixed up world, when you find yourself at the fork in the road, choose
the path of hope.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Again this year, Fr. Scott and I challenged the men of the parish to join us in the Nazarite Challenge--to grow out their beards for the month of November and commit to growing in fraternity and holiness. (Last year's challenge resulted in the formation of a great little parish men's group, "André's Brothers.") Tonight, we invited those who accepted the Challenge to come together for Vespers, snacks, and drinks. Just take a look at all these handsome, happy, hirsute faces:

Thanks to the talents of the wife of one of the men, even the cookies had whiskers:

But the greatest (and most unexpected) source of joy during this November's edition of the Challenge was that we finally got Fr. Stitt to break down and give the bearded life a try:

I'm not sure how long his man mane will last, but we'll make the the most of it while it does!

Two men were seated in the same train compartment.One was grey-haired and thoughtful; the
other was young, restless, and apparently quite worried. In time, the older man spoke: “Something
sure seems to be troubling you, son.Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, sir,” the young man replied.“Actually, there’s nothing anybody can do to help.But since I feel like I can trust you,
and I probably won’t ever see you again, I’ll tell you my story, and that
itself will be a relief.”With
utter honestly, the young man shared how he’d gotten started in petty crime—stealing
small things from work to help support his widowed mother.But then he fell in with two coworkers,
who proved to be hardened criminals.The three planned a serious robbery, but when the security guard caught
them by surprise, he was shot by one of the older men, who were both captured
by the police.They pinned the
murder on the young man, who had managed to get away, and now a warrant was out
for his arrest.He was headed for
the big city, where he hoped to disappear into the crowds.

Kindly, but in all seriousness, the older man said, “You
know, you really need to turn yourself in and tell this whole story to the
court—just as you’ve told it to me.”

“It was easy to tell you,” the young man replied, “since
you’re a stranger and so understanding.I’d be much too scared to tell my story to a judge!”But eventually the older man prevailed,
and the young man promised to do it.

He kept his promise, and there came his day in court.Just as restless and anxious as he’d
been on the train, the young man was led before the bench with his eyes cast
down.After the charges were read,
he was asked to make a statement.It’s only then that he looked up at the judge—who, to his great
surprise, was none other than his friend from the train.It was suddenly much easier to tell his
story to one who knew it already.He was acquitted of murder, placed on probation for the attempted
robbery, and never turned to crime again.

On these four Sundays of November, when the Church’s
thoughts turn to prayer for the faithful departed, we’ve been reflecting on the
Four Last Things.We’ve already
considered (1) death, (2) heaven, and (3) hell.This Sunday, we contemplate the hinge between life in this
world and life in the next: (4) judgment.

Every Sunday, we profess our faith that Christ our King
“will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom
will have no end.”This Sunday, we
have a feast to celebrate that faith.These last several Sundays we’ve been hearing parables reminding us to
get ready: to prepare ourselves for the coming of the Son of Man, to prepare
for Jesus’ return.Today we hear
yet another parable, through which we learn what will happen when he comes.

The scriptures are clear that all men will be raised in
their bodies on the last day so as to stand before the judgment seat of Christ and
give an accounting of their faith and works.Standing before Jesus, who is Truth itself, the whole truth
of our relationship with God will be laid bare for all to see.Ever throw a pebble into a still pond
and wonder just how far the ripples will go?At the Last Judgment, the full extent of what we’ve all done
and failed to do will be revealed as God’s justice triumphs over our every
injustice, and God’s love and mercy prove stronger even than death.

But Jesus is not only the King and Judge of the whole universe;
he’s my king and my judge.Besides
the general judgment at the end of time, we believe in a particular judgment at
the hour of our death, when our eternal reward will be determined immediately—either
to depart into eternal punishment, or to come and enter into eternal life.

By the way so many of us live, you’d think the criteria upon
which we’ll be judged were how much money we’ve earned, or how far we’ve gotten
in our careers, or how many friend we’ve made.But Jesus makes it clear that only one question will be
asked: “What have you done for the least brothers of mine and yours?”That’s not an abstract question!In fact, the King gets rather specific
as he speaks to the sheep and then the goats.That familiar list of charitable deeds is known to us as the
Corporal Works of Mercy.But why
should these actions in particular be the ones upon which our everlasting
destiny depends?Because they’re a
practical test of whether we really love our neighbor, and the love of neighbor
is a practical test of whether we really love our God.

How does this faith of the Church in the judgment of King
Jesus affect your life and mine, here and now?For one thing, it should instill in us a holy fear—the sort
that prompts us to covert our lives while time yet remains.And for another, it should give us
blessed hope—looking forward to the Lord’s return with eager expectation, for
it is then that God’s will, God’s plan for creation, will come to its glorious
and perfect fulfillment, when God will be all in all.

My friends, we should all see ourselves in that young man on
the train—we’re all sinners, restless and anxious because we’re guilty as
charged. And for that very reason,
let us reach out with charity to every stranger who walks into our lives, for
in each and every one of them the King of the Universe is giving us another
opportunity to become his own friend.
And if we thus allow Jesus to be our friend in this life, we will be
able to stand before him with great confidence when he comes again to judge the
living and the dead.

Sunday, November 19, 2017

It’s been said that in heaven the cooks will all be French, the
police will all be British, the lovers will all be Italian, and everything will
be organized by Germans.On the
other hand, in hell the cooks will all be British, the police will all be
French, the lovers will all be German, and everything will be organized by Italians!

I want to thank you all for your prayers during this past
week while I was on retreat.It
was truly a graced time of prayer and reflection—without a doubt, the best
retreat I’ve ever made.In fact, I
could say it was a little “taste of heaven”…even if the cook was Italian and
not French.The greater irony is
that, coming off of this heavenly experience, I jump back into our homily
series on the Four Last Things by preaching to you today about uplifting topic
of hell.

We’ve just heard Jesus tell us his parable of the talents.When we hear this story, it’s easy enough
to think of it in terms of our natural abilities—our “talents”—and many a
homily has been given on it inviting folks to get more involved in their parish
and share their God-given gifts.It also brings to mind the stewardship of our financial resources, providing
many a pastor the opportunity to talk about increasing the collection.Those things are good and important,
but this Sunday we’re going to consider something far more decisive.

The “talent” mentioned in the gospel was an ancient unit of
money, and it’s value varied.A single
silver talent was worth between 15-20 years’ wages of manual laborer.A bronze talent was worth a bit less; a
gold talent, a bit more.In any
case, we’re talking here about a considerable amount of wealth.

The master entrusts his fortune to the care of his servants according
to their ability.Two of his
servants are obviously quite capable, given the large amount they each
receive.And they didn’t
disappoint him: by trade and investment, by their effort and risk-taking, they
earn him a 100% return.(Don’t you
wish you could find a stockbroker like that?)

Then there's that poor third servant, who's quite the opposite of the industrious woman, the worthy wife, described in such glowing terms by Solomon. This one gives back the exact amount he had received.Even if he’d only earned a small
return, that would have been better than nothing at all.But he made no effort, took no risk,
and simply buried the great wealth that had been given to his care.

The master’s response to this lack of initiative can seem
awfully harsh, especially since nothing was actually lost: the servant had not
squandered his money nor run off with it.It’s harsh…unless what we’re talking about here is something more valuable
than money.In fact, it’s nowhere
near too harsh if what this parable is really talking about is our salvation.

This Sunday, instead of taking stock of how we’re using our
skills and our finances, let’s take stock of how invested we are in our
Catholic faith.God has entrusted
us with things worth far more than even a huge heap of bronze, silver, and gold.After his Death and Resurrection,
before making the return journey to the Father, Jesus handed over to the care
of his followers some incredible treasures: he’s given us the Church, the seven
sacraments, the holy scriptures, prayer, his Mother Mary and all the saints.By his Blood, Jesus won for us all the
means necessary for our salvation.What are we doing with them while we await his Coming?Are we putting them to good use?Earning a high return?Or have we buried and hidden them away
for safekeeping?We know our
Master’s high expectations; what are you and I doing to fulfill them?

You see, if we haven’t proven ourselves trustworthy and
industrious in this world, how can we expect to inherit the next?If I’ve only prayed halfheartedly here,
should I expect to one day enter into the fullness of joy?If I don’t always make time for Mass,
can I reasonably expect happiness that never ends?If I don’t read the Bible, ought I hope for what it
promises?If I give my time to
sitting in front of the TV or surfing Internet but never to adoring the Blessed
Sacrament, can I rightfully anticipate to behold God face-to-face?If I don’t keep company with God’s holy
ones on earth, can I assume I’ll be comfortable dwelling with them in Paradise?

You and I were made by God, and you and I were made for God:
to enjoy life with him eternally.That’s
been God’s plan from the very beginning.In God and with God is found our true meaning, our deep fulfillment, our
real happiness—now and forever.Hell
is being separated from all of this—to be separated from God: from the one for
whom our hearts long; from the destiny for which we were created.To close oneself off from God’s love
and mercy, to die in mortal sin without repentance, to fail to make any
investment or return—even a small one—on the priceless means of salvation with
which Christ has entrusted you, means being separated from the Lord
forever.That’s not the whim of
some strict, angry God.Hell is
our own choice.We damn ourselves.

It sounds kind of crazy, but the real possibility of hell is
actually a necessary element of God’s boundless love for us.Because he loves us, God has the
highest respect for us and for the free will that we’ve been given.If we weren’t truly free, we could not truly
love him in return.Which means we
can choose to love…or choose not to love.And love, of course, isn’t just a matter of some nice words or vague
feelings; it’s a matter of action, it’s an entire way of life.Our human freedom would be a big sham if
the winning score were already fixed regardless of how we play the game.Do you think the Son of God would have
gone to all the trouble of becoming man and dying on a Cross if heaven were
simply automatic for everybody?God will not force himself on us.

God does not want us to go to hell.And the Church fervently prays that
none of her children will be lost.But the decision, my friends, belongs to each soul.We must choose, and follow through on
our choice.

So, how do we grow the Lord’s investment in us?How do we make a responsible return on the
immense spiritual wealth that we’ve been given?(1) For one thing, on a personal level, we need to remember
that faith, like the muscles of our bodies, needs to be exercised in order to
grow and get stronger—and it’s not enough to do so only on rare or special occasions.As with money: put your faith to work,
and it will work for you.(2) Secondly,
on a wider scale, we grow our faith by spreading it around.If we hope to see faith increase in the
world, then we must be willing to share it with others.

Like our reflections on Purgatory a couple of Sunday’s ago,
such talk might seem awfully old fashioned.I suspect it’s been quite awhile since you’ve heard a homily
on hell.In fact, it’d be easy to
think that modern, enlightened Catholics shouldn’t even talk about this stuff
any more!But just listen to what
the Bishops at Vatican II had to say on the subject, citing this Sunday’s
parable:

Since we know not the
day nor the hour, we should follow the advice of the Lord and watch constantly so
that, having finished the course of our earthly life, we may merit to enter
into the marriage feast with him and to be numbered among the blessed and not
be ordered to depart into the eternal fire like the wicked and slothful
servant, into the outer darkness where "there will be weeping and gnashing
of teeth" (Lumen Gentium,
48).

Now you might be thinking, “Father, I come here to Mass
hoping to go home with a good feeling.
Thoughts of hell don’t exactly leave me with a smile on my face.” My silly opening joke wasn’t enough to
do that! But my task as your
parish priest isn’t to get you to smile for an hour or two; it’s to make sure
you share in the happiness that never ends. These teachings may be sobering, I know, but the stakes are
that high. Hell isn’t there to
cause us to live in fear and trembling, but it does call us to get serious
about the heavenly treasures placed into our hands. Each one of us will be called upon to give a full
accounting. What return will you
make?

"The great lesson designed for us in this parable is
expressed in those words with which our Lord concludes: Watch because you know not the day nor the hour. The bridegroom in
the parable came in the middle of the
night, that is, at a time when he was least expected…. Not that he desires
to surprise us, for if he did he would not so often warn us; but that he
desires we would always watch, and be always ready, that so we may never be
surprised.…Oh, who can express or conceive the greatness of these heavenly
rewards, of these highest honors, of these never-ending joys, signified here by
our Lord's ministering in this manner himself to the servants whom he shall find watching!…Conclude to bear always
in mind this indispensable duty of watching, so frequently inculcated by the
Son of God, that so you may never be surprised and sleep in death. Carry always with you the lamp of faith to
enlighten yourself, but never forget that this light must be kept in with the
oil of good works."

Mary, Virgin and Mother

We fly to your patronage,O holy Mother of God;despise not our petitions

in our necessities,but deliver us from all evil,O glorious and blessed Virgin.

Saint Joseph

Pray for us!

"St. Joseph was

an ordinary sort of man

on whom God relied

to do great things."

--St. Josemaria Escriva

Saint Barnabas

Pray for us!

"...Joseph,

also named by the apostles Barnabas

(which is translated

son of encouragement)..."

--Acts 4:36

Saint Bruno

Pray for us!

"Only those who have experienced

the solitude and silence

of the wilderness

can know the benefit and divine joy

they bring to those who love them."

--St. Bruno

(1030-1101)

Saint Francis of Assisi

Pray for us!

"You should never let anyone

leave your presence in sadness."

--St. Francis of Assisi

(1181-1226)

Saint Philip Neri

Pray for us!

"A servant of God

ought always to be happy."

--St. Philip Neri

(1515-1595)

Saint John Francis Regis

Pray for us!

"No violence of cold, no snows...,

no mountains, or torrents...,

could be an obstacle to his zeal."

--comment of a contemporary

of St. John Francis Regis

(1597-1640)

Saint John Mary Vianney

Pray for us!

"Our faults

are like grains of sand

next to the great mountain

of the mercies of God."

--St. John Vianney

(1786-1859)

Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

Pray for us!

"The value of life does not depend

upon the place we occupy;

it depends upon the way

we occupy that place."

--St. Thérèse of Lisieux

(1873-1897)

Saint André Bessette

Pray for us!

"It is with the smallest brushes

that the Artist paints

the most exquisitely

beautiful pictures."

--St. André Bessette

(1845-1937)

Blessed Charles de Foucauld

Pray for us!

"The absence of risk

is a sure sign

of mediocrity."

--Blessed Charles de Foucauld

(1858-1916)

Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati

Pray for us!

"The higher we go,

the better we shall hear

the voice of Christ."

--Blessed Pier Girogio Frassati

(1901-1925)

Saint John Paul II

Pray for us!

"Up to the evening of your life

remain in wonder and gratitude

for that mysterious call

which one day echoed

in the depths of your spirit:

Follow me!”

--Blessed John Paul II

(1920-2005)

Keep smiling!

“I’m not a man who constantly thinks up jokes. But I think it’s very important to be able to see the funny side of life and its joyful dimension and not to take everything too tragically. I’d also say it’s necessary for my ministry. A writer once said that angels can fly because they don't take themselves too seriously. Maybe we could also fly a bit if we didn’t think we were so important.”